By the time I get home, my head is pounding. Not the normal kind of headache either. This one feels... deeper. Like something is knocking against the inside of my skull, trying to wake up. I barely register Mum calling from the kitchen as I climb the stairs. "Jake? How was the trip?"
"It was... educational." Technically, I'm not lying. Learning you're living in a Marvel Universe where half your friend group just got bitten by genetically engineered spiders is certainly educational. "I've got homework," I call back. "Don't stay locked in your room all evening," Mum replies. "I won't." Another lie.
The moment my bedroom door clicks shut behind me, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I lock the door. Twice. Then I toss my backpack onto the floor before carefully reaching into the oversized front pocket of my hoodie. Immediately, something crawls onto my fingers.
Then another.
Then another.
Five pairs of tiny legs tickle across my skin. I shudder. "Well..." I force a weak smile. "This is officially the weirdest thing I've ever done." One by one, I lift the spiders out. They don't try to bite me. They don't even try to escape. Instead, they calmly crawl over my hands as though they've already decided I belong to them.
"I really don't like that." My skin prickles wherever they touch. Tiny tingles spread through my fingertips. Not painful. Not pleasant either. Just... Wrong. These aren't pets. They're experimental bioweapons. Five tiny biological time bombs sitting comfortably in the palm of my hand.
Fortunately, Dad's workshop is in the garage. Well... "My dad's." Still feels weird thinking that. Half the shelves are covered with old tools, spare jars, electrical parts and enough screws to build a small robot.
Perfect.
I gather five thick glass specimen jars, clean them out, punch tiny ventilation holes into each metal lid, and line them up across my workbench. "Congratulations." I point at the spiders. "You've each won your own prison cell." The first spider climbs willingly into its jar. The second follows. The third actually pauses at the rim before disappearing inside.
The fourth almost escapes onto my sleeve before I gently coax it back. The fifth... just stares at me in an unnerving manner. Yes. I know spiders don't actually stare. Tell that to my rapidly increasing paranoia. Eventually it crawls inside too. I tighten each lid.
Then tighten them again. Then wrap duct tape around every lid because I trust radioactive spiders about as much as I trust Loki with financial advice. Five jars. Five spiders. Problem... Temporarily contained.
I spend nearly an hour simply watching them. They're different. Very different. One resembles the false widow that bit Lyn, Peter and co. Another is almost black with emerald markings like the wolf spider that bit Harry. One has crimson striping. Another shines with metallic blue patterns. The last possesses faint silver markings that almost seem to glow whenever the light catches them.
Oscorp...
What the hell were you making?
Dinner is quieter than usual. Mum chatters about work, trying a little too hard to sound cheerful. I answer where I can, nodding when expected, but my thoughts never leave Oscorp. Never leave the spiders. "...and Forge said he'd stop by this weekend," Mum says.
That gets my attention. Uncle Forge. My moms older brother. He's been around for as long as I can remember. Fixing things. Building things. Teaching me how engines work. Helping Mum whenever something around the house breaks. If anyone has ever filled the role of a father in my life. It's been him. "That'll be nice," I say. She smiles. A genuine one this time. "He wanted to see how you're settling into Midtown."
"I'll be fine." I give her a small smile. "I know you will." For just a second her smile falters. Her eyes drift toward the framed photograph sitting on the living-room shelf. A younger man. Dark hair. Bright turquoise eyes. One arm wrapped around Mum while the other cradles a toddler no older than two.
Dad.
Max James McGrath. Officially declared dead after the explosion at a test site over a decade ago. I barely remember him. Just flashes. Strong arms lifting me onto his shoulders. A deep laugh. Someone calling him "Max." Sometimes...
I wonder if those memories are even real. Mum notices where I'm looking and quietly looks away. The subject changes almost immediately. Neither of us says another word about him. Later that night, I finally collapse into bed. Sleep claims me almost instantly.
Then violently abandons me. I jolt upright. Every muscle in my body screams. My bones ache. My skin burns. My heart pounds hard enough that I can hear it in my ears. "What..." My voice comes out hoarse. "...the hell?" I throw off my blanket as sweat soaks through my shirt. My breathing becomes ragged.
It feels...
Wrong.
Like electricity is racing beneath my skin. I stagger toward the bathroom. Every step feels heavier than the last. I grip the sink until my knuckles whiten before forcing myself to look into the mirror. For just a heartbeat, my eyes shimmer.
Turquoise.
Then silver.
Then normal again.
I blink. "No..." I lean closer. "...nope." Nothing. Just my own reflection staring back. "You didn't bite me." I grip the edge of the sink harder. "I caught you first." Silence. "You didn't bite me." I repeat it.
Again.
And again.
Like if I say it enough times... reality might listen. Then another wave of pain crashes through me. I double over. A strange warmth spreads through my fingertips. My senses sharpen for only an instant. I hear the faint ticking of the clock downstairs. The refrigerator humming in the kitchen. The wind brushing against leaves outside my bedroom window.
Then it's gone. I slowly straighten. "...Okay." I swallow. "That wasn't normal." Not even by Marvel standards. I don't sleep much after that. Instead, I lie awake staring at the ceiling.
Listening.
Thinking.
Wondering.
Did one of them scratch me? Did I accidentally absorb something?
Or...
Is this something else entirely? Because if today has taught me anything...
It's that the universe doesn't care about canon.
Freeze frame.
Cue narrator, complete with jazz hands.
And here we are, ladies and gentlemen. The traditional "Something Weird Is Happening to the Main Character" chapter. Jake keeps insisting he wasn't bitten. Which, to be fair...
He wasn't.
Probably.
Maybe.
Look, the spiders haven't exactly signed sworn affidavits. Meanwhile, he's got five genetically engineered Oscorp spiders sitting in jars upstairs like some kind of suburban supervillain starter kit.
And now?
His senses are acting up. His body's changing. His eyes are doing the whole mysterious glowing thing that never means anything good. Could it be spider powers? Could it be something completely unrelated? Could it be the universe laughing at him?
The answer is...
Yes.
Well.
One of those. Probably. Because this is Marvel. And in Marvel, the night always bites back. Even when the spider doesn't.